I’ve been mulling over a quote by CT Studd recently, whilst writing some prayer resources, and I can’t get it out of my mind:
“Some want to live within the sound of church or chapel bell; I want to run a rescue shop within a yard of hell.”
One of the features I find hardest about Wandsworth, is the affluence that is so apparent in the borough. When we were out collecting this year, for the SA’s annual appeal, I felt a bit like little orphan Annie, wandering up these sweeping driveways and gingerly pressing intrecom buttons. The houses were lovely, more than just big, they were gargantuan. I felt this odd internal conflict as I looked past the (often somewhat frustrated) door-openers and into their hallways. I saw beautiful creme carpets, winding waxed wood stairs, marble fireplaces. One man came and answered the door, fresh from playing squash with his son in their purpose-built games room!
Now, I know I’m generalising, but I’m pretty sure that these neighbourhoods are not the ‘yard of hell’ God is calling me to.
I’m sure in the future this sense of calling I feel to the worst areas – the most run-down or dilapidated parts of town will work out in a physical place.
For now, I’m becoming increasingly aware that the ‘hell’ some people live in is not just a physical place. There is the hell of loneliness or grief or betrayal. Abuse, addiction and rejection. These things I do encounter often, sometimes in the people who come to the Salvation Army seeking help, sometimes in the newspapers, sometimes in the lives and stories of my friends.
Sometimes I find myself longing for the simplicity of the ‘nicer parts of town’, in many different relationships. Sometimes it is hard, sitting down for a cup of tea and hearing about the landscape of each particular hell. Sometimes I want to fix everything, or never hear another story again.
Every so often, in fact with increasing regularity, I am humbled and awed by the way God moves in these situations. He seems perfectly comfortable with living life within a yard of hell. His speciality is rescue. Every time I am tempted to seek an easier route I try and remember this.
And yet even in those affluent areas there is a starvation of sorts –
Have they ever known the thrill of communicating and cooperating with God?
It’s so tempting to force your personal will into being when an abundance of resources are at your disposal (just read the musings of a King in the book of Ecclesiastes!).
Have they ever known what it feels like to align yourself and “your” resources alongside something that God is wanting to do in the here and now? Nothing on earth can compare to the thrill and satisfaction that such an experience gives you.
It makes me want to cry for them. . .